


Geometric Complications of the Transitive Property

by KinoGlowWorm



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Humiliation, Incredibly Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lube Hands, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoGlowWorm/pseuds/KinoGlowWorm
Summary: Yuuri held back a breathy laugh against Yuri’s skin, mostly at himself. He hoped he had managed to keep it to himself, at least. He’d become accustomed to the voice of the character he put on when Viktor wanted this kind of treatment, but it was something he’d never shown to Yuri. Why would he? The line between the character he was playing for his Vitya and the sweetness he breathed for his Yura was so thin right now, so soft. Which voice had just spoken those words? Could the two speak at the same time? Was it possible to be sincere to one and an act to the other?





	Geometric Complications of the Transitive Property

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackmountainbones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/gifts).



> [blackmountainbones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/) is reaping quite the birthday fic haul, but if she's unclear why it has to do with all that she's seeded in good conversation, support in many ways, and stories that are gorgeous and filthy in equal measure. As she is fond of saying, she inspires to new lows (and also new highs).  
> 
> 
>   * _mame-chan_ \- Japanese for “little bean” - because I decided Yuri needed a new nickname.
>   * _golubyets_ \- A Russian cabbage roll stuffed with meat and rice, usually cooked in tomato sauce, more commonly seen as plural _golubtsy_. Etymologically related to _golub_ , which means both ‘pigeon’ and ‘dove’ and is sometimes used as a term of affection, and _goluboy_ , the shade of light, dovelike blue that is synonymous with homosexuality in Russian.
> 


“Fuck!” Yuri exclaimed angrily, thumping his fist into the bed. “You mean, he fucking likes it when I insult him? This takes the fun out of...fucking everything! You hear that, baldy?! Wait, fuck. You ruin everything!”

“It’s not,” Viktor began, but Yuri cut him off swiftly with an sharp, accusatory finger from several feet away.

“Shut the fuck up, I thought you were told to keep quiet.”

“Ah, it’s not that simple, _mame-chan_ ,” Yuuri explained softly as he leaned in to trace the lightly stubbled curve of Yuri’s jawline with his fingertips, turning him away from where Viktor was perched on the edge of the hotel room’s other bed. 

Yuuri’s hand settled along the side of Yuri’s face, cupping his cheek gently from above as Yuuri kneeled beside where Yuri sat on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him.

“It wouldn’t be the same coming from you,” Yuuri whispered, drawing Yuri into a quick, soft kiss. 

“Pathetic old man already knows how much mojo he’s lost to someone as lithe and energetic and beautiful as you,” Yuuri continued in a slightly louder voice as his fingers began to trail up under the soft jersey hem of Yuri’s shirt, skimming lightly along the dips of his lower back. “Must be why he lets me fuck you, because he knows he couldn’t be enough for me.”

“I still don’t fucking believe I agreed to this,” Yuri grumbled, but offered no protest as Yuuri’s hands snaked up his back, sliding his shirt with them up and over his head. No objection as Yuuri pushed him back against the cheap flowered bedspread, their mouths immediately working wet and open against each other as Yuuri crawled over his body, settling himself astride one of Yuri’s legs. 

“Don’t you?” Yuuri asked with a roll of his hips and Yuri gasped lightly into Yuuri’s mouth as he pressed up against the muscular thigh between his legs. 

Yuri still hadn’t fully relaxed into the idea of having an audience, particularly when that audience was Viktor. Yuuri knew that the geometry of the relationships between them had been complicated since before any of them really knew each other. Since before Yuuri had dramatically tightened the ways that Viktor and Yuri’s lives spiraled around each other’s. 

Yuuri understood something about what it meant to live in parallel with Viktor, the challenge of the way the situation assumed competition regardless of your intention, up to the point you almost believed it yourself. It was a difficult match for a situation that required delicacy even without the baggage of their public personae. 

“You don’t have to look at him if you don’t want to,” Yuuri said, even as his own eyes darted up to Viktor’s face over the contours of Yuri’s body as he rolled in again and drew another shaky groan out of the younger man. “If it weren’t for the comically ridiculous faces he makes when he gets embarrassed, I wouldn’t want to either. Really, it’s best if you pretend he’s not there.”

Yuri’s hands pushed under the soft, dark undershirt Yuuri wore, greedy for the warmth of skin against skin. As he slipped it off, Yuuri flung the balled up shirt directly at Viktor where he sat. He quickly returned his attention to Yuri, tracing lines across his bare torso in lips and tongue, erratically punctuating his movement with gentle nips of his teeth as Yuri shifted and arched against him.

“You always shock me with how beautiful you are,” Yuuri said, looking up as he worked along the skin right at the line of the hem of Yuri’s black dress pants where they pulled low across his hips, playing with the line of wiry golden hair that led from his navel to disappear beneath the the black fabric.

He held back a breathy laugh against Yuri’s skin, mostly at himself. He hoped he had managed to keep it to himself, at least. He’d become accustomed to the voice of the character he put on when Viktor wanted this kind of treatment, but it was something he’d never shown to Yuri. Why would he? The line between the character he was playing for his Vitya and the sweetness he breathed for his Yura was so thin right now, so soft. Which voice had just spoken those words? Could the two speak at the same time? Was it possible to be sincere to one and an act to the other?

Yuri’s breath hitched as Yuuri deftly unfastened his pants, allowing Yuri’s straining cock to push forward through the lightweight fabric of his purple briefs. Yuuri’s face was still so close that Yuri could feel the moist heat of his breath on him through the thin fabric. 

Without being asked, Yuri lifted his hips as Yuuri took a firm hold on the waistband, drawing a sharp inhale as he brushed against Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri hovered low just above Yuri’s body and peeled the tight, slim-cut trousers down his legs. As he pulled himself up to kneeling to wrangle the garment from Yuri’s ankles, Yuuri felt warmth against his back and the soft, moist press of lips to the nape of his neck.

“Get the fuck away!” Yuri yelled, lazily kicking at Viktor around Yuuri from where he lay. 

“Vitya!” Yuuri scolded as he turned around, but found it difficult to manage anything too stern as the gentle warmth surged through him, realizing what Viktor was asking for. “Was I not clear enough, idiot? The rules are very simple: stay quiet and keep your hands to yourself. Do I need to explain it again? Because I don’t think I can come up with shorter words to tell you.”

Viktor shook his head, the tip of his tongue darting bright between his lips as he dropped back into his seat, rubbing the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other where they were folded together in his lap. 

“Do you need something to help you remember to keep your hands to yourself?” Yuuri purred as he stood up to loom over Viktor where he sat, grabbing his chin firmly in one hand. “Don’t forget, if you can’t follow the rules, you’ll have to sit where you can’t see a thing, and maybe where you can’t even hear.”

Viktor shrugged, but it looked as if he was suppressing a mischievous grin as he did. 

“Ugh, you’re useless,” Yuuri spat, dropping his hands away from Viktor’s face. “Answer me in one word: Do you need something to remind you? Say yes or no.”

“Yes,” said Viktor. Of course he did. 

“Can’t even follow simple instructions without my help,” Yuuri said with a sigh as he pushed himself away from the bed and stepped towards the wardrobe. He fumbled with a garment bag for a moment and pulled out a deep violet tie, subtly patterned with a lighter shade of purple. 

“It’s not worth my time to tie you up properly,” Yuuri said, lacing the tie around Viktor’s wrists in his lap a few lazy times and tying a loose, sloppy slipknot. “If you really wanted, you could just pull out of this at any time, but you know what would happen if you did, hmm?”

Viktor nodded meekly. His face looked almost as flushed as those of the two men on the bed, his breathing uneven, although he’d barely moved. 

“Alright then, I have better things to do than pay attention to whatever it is that you’re doing,” Yuuri said, turning back to Yuri, resting back on his hands as he sat on the bed, his own face a contradiction of wide eyes and soft, bitten-full lips pulled into a frustrated scowl that made him look like he’d gone back in time to his angry teenager mode. It was a face Yuuri only ever saw out of him around Viktor these days.

“Sorry, _mame-chan_. I’m sorry about him. He’s such a needy fuck. He can’t even sit in a chair by himself without needing my help. But you…” Yuuri was cut off by his own choked gasp as Yuri’s tongue swirled a nipple in between his teeth through a deep inhalation and bit down. “You always know what I want, sometimes even before I do.”

The uncharacteristic meekness Yuri had showed thus far began to melt away as he swung his bare leg over Yuuri’s hips, pressing him back against the bedspread with the force of his kiss. Yuuri wondered whether it was the loose tie around Viktor’s wrists or his own intervention to Viktor’s touch that had reignited his typical confidence.

Yuri didn’t waste time stripping the rest of the clothes from Yuuri’s body, not bothering to take time in unwrapping him slowly to indulge Viktor in the frustration of watching it. Yuuri grabbed the bunched clothes before Yuri could push them to the floor. He plucked his own black and blue striped trunks out, tossing them at Viktor’s face and smirking as they fell right onto his bound forearms. 

The relationship assumed competition unless proven otherwise. Even as Yuuri’s eyes lingered on the way Viktor shifted his loosely-bound arms so that he could draw the garment into his hands, Yuri settled Yuuri’s leg over his shoulder and pressed his face to the inside of his thigh. He took a moment just to breathe deeply against the tender skin there before working his way in towards the center, humming and nipping against the skin. 

As he neared the tender skin of Yuuri’s sack, Yuri paused to let his tongue draw infuriatingly slow circuits, lazy and soft, licking right up into the crease where his thigh met his body. Each circle was dressed in his hot breath, in reverently whispered words Yuuri hadn’t learned in any Russian textbook that must be either filthy or nonsense or both, though Yuuri’s grasp of any language was becoming shakier with each movement of Yuri’s tongue. His own voice was only the series of shaky, gutteral moans drawn from him as the licks drifted to trace the base of his sack, the lines of the skin leading back towards his asshole. The ghost of Yuri’s hand drifted over his cock.

Yuuri’s eyes slid back open as Yuri’s face pulled away from him. He hadn’t even realized that he had closed them. Yuri had pushed himself up from where he was nestled between where Yuuri’s legs had wrapped themselves around him, looking down at him in expectation of some sort.

“What?” Yuuri asked.

“I asked, how are we doing this today?” Yuri asked, his hand ruffling the soft dark hair along Yuuri’s thigh with soft strokes against the grain of it. “You’re running the show here, _golubyets_.”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said, his arm heavy as he reached to stroke whatever part of Yuri’s skin he could reach, his head clearing enough to respond even with the delicious ache that still held tight in his core. He nodded towards Viktor. “This thing seemed pretty clear that he wanted to see you shove that beautiful cock of yours into my ass, but was too useless to offer any other suggestions.”

“Mm,” Yuri grunted, licking his lips.

“Earlier, I thought I wanted to ride you - I know how much you like when I do that.” Yuuri’s hands found their way back into Yuri’s shaggy hair, twirling a lock idly around his finger. “But I’m feeling selfish and what you’re doing right now feels so good that I just want you to keep doing that. Show this limp, old clam what it means to take care of me. You think you can do that, _mame-chan_? Can you let me be selfish today?”

Yuri nodded, pressing a kiss to the muscular curve of the leg still resting on his shoulder.

“Eat me out until I’m almost ready to come just from that?” Yuuri said, and bit into his lower lip, trying not to smile too broadly at the twin sighs that shuddered through the room. This was a sound he could get used to.

“Then open me up with that gorgeous cock so he can see why I have to come to you to get any fucking satisfaction?” Yuuri said, his eyes sneaking over to Viktor to watch him shift in his seat, obediently silent but trying to find some subtle way to rub against himself.

“You think you can do that for me?” Yuuri asked, guiding Yuri forward over his supine body with the fingers twined in his hair. “Is that going to work for you, _mame-chan_? Is that what you want?”

“ _Golubyets_ ,” Yuri breathed as he settled on top of Yuuri’s body, legs tangled, fingers running lightly along his side. His eyes were as wide as Yuuri had ever seen them as Yuri rolled his hips gently against him, Yuuri’s erection twitching up towards him hopefully. “I just want to fuck you right now. I don’t even really care how, but I’m going to fucking implode if you make me wait any longer with whatever little game you’re playing with baldy over there.”

Yuuri’s hands slid slowly over the well-defined curves of Yuri’s ass, pulling their hips even tighter together, kissing him deeply. 

“Dude,” Yuri giggled as he pressed himself up, resting his hand on Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri smiled sweetly, almost bashfully at the sound of Yuri’s hiccupingly unguarded giggle. It was one he’d only ever heard from his younger lover at times when it had just been the two of them. To hear it in front of Viktor felt like a special sort of triumph he hadn’t been expecting. Part of him wanted to mark the moment, but bringing it up seemed like it might ruin the moment - it would certainly break at least half of his character.

“You want to flip around?” Yuuri asked, patting Yuri’s hip.

“What happened to being selfish?” Yuri smirked, already clambering around the bed on his knees to reposition himself with his ass over Yuuri’s face.

“Who says this isn’t selfish?” Yuuri said, delivering light, playful smack to Yuri’s ass and being treated to the same giggle again as Yuri collapsed forward into his crotch, ass still high in the air.

“It’s not my fault you have the world’s most beautiful ass,” Yuuri said, grabbing Yuri by the hips and pulling him back towards his face, inhaling his musky scent deeply as he nosed against the crack. He framed the two cheeks with his hands, gnawing lightly at the soft skin.

“Now I know you’re full of shit,” Yuri said, idly pushing back the foreskin from the head of Yuuri’s weeping cock. “Because even you know that title is yours.”

“I dare you to complain,” Yuuri taunted and began twisting his tongue firmly against the textured ring of Yuri’s asshole, satisfied as Yuri dropped his own ministrations momentarily with a heavy gasp, pressing back against his tongue, looking for more. 

Yuri returned to his work with redoubled purpose. He offered only brief attention to Yuuri’s cock, tracing down the length of it sloppily before pushing forward to focus his attention closer to the tightly drawn wrinkle of his asshole, massaging the twin mounds of his ass cheeks as he drew them apart to press his face closer.

His tongue danced around and into the entrance, broad and flat against the soft skin of the taint, pulling tighter as he circled and flicked it against the sensitive pucker, pressing it into the delicate musk of the hole itself. As Yuri pushed his tongue into the taut ring of muscle, Yuuri shuddered and his head dropped back to the bed, eyes fluttering in pleasure. 

As Yuri continued to dip into him, his head lolled towards where Viktor was still seated, chewing his lip and breathing heavily, his blue eyes unblinking as they met Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled softly, and then twisted up on one side a little more as he remembered.

“Viktor,” he said sternly, causing Yuri to pause in his attention. Viktor sat up a little straighter. “I have something I need you to do for me.”

Viktor nodded, watching Yuuri intently.

“I need you to bring me the lube I bought earlier today. It’s in one of the shopping bags,” Yuuri directed. “I’m going to count to twenty. When I get to twenty, you’re going to have to kneel wherever you are. If you can’t bring me the lube by then, you’ll have to stay kneeling right there and face the wall while Yuri fucks me. If you can bring me the lube by the count of twenty, then you can kneel by the bed and keep watching. Do you understand? One word: yes or no.”

“Yes,” said Viktor softly, releasing his lip from between his teeth.

“Then do it, you lazy fuck,” Yuuri said, and began to count slowly in Russian.

Viktor pressed his bound forearms to his lap to stand up, taking a few steps, his eyes darting frantically around the room for the stack of shopping bags they had brought back earlier. 

_Six._ Viktor spotted the bags, tucked between a chair and the wall. He flopped ungracefully into the chair and drew them out awkwardly with his hands close together.

_Eight._ As Viktor began to dig through the bags, Yuuri was shocked by the sensation of Yuri grabbing his cock firmly with one hand and wrapping his lips around the head as he slid the foreskin back.  
His count paused briefly as he let out a choked gasp of surprise. Even Viktor looked up in shock as the count halted before returning to his search. 

_Nine._ Keeping the count steady and even became more difficult as Yuri took more of him into his mouth, tongue swirling around his shaft as he worked up and down. 

_Eleven._ Yuuri gave up on counting in Russian and switched to Japanese. The strain of trying to keep up the count with Yuri working magic on his cock while he watched Viktor scramble to please him was almost too much. He worked to regulate his breath carefully to keep himself from shooting right into Yuri’s mouth.

_Sixteen._ Yuuri’s voice wavered over the number as Viktor clasped the bottle between his hands and extracted it from the bag, trying to figure out how he was supposed to get up while still holding it, ultimately letting the bag drop to the floor as he stood up, holding the lube tightly.

_Nineteen._ Viktor dropped the bottle onto the bed by Yuuri’s head as Yuri pulled off of him with a pop. Yuuri took several slow, deep breaths to calm himself as his head swam, wondering what had just happened. He wished Yuri wasn’t facing away from him right now, wondering what his expression looked like. Had Yuri been trying to help Viktor in his task? Or did he just recognize a chance to play with Yuuri in a new way? 

“I suppose that’s good enough,” Yuuri said, feigning disinterest as he looked up to where Viktor stood over him, expectantly silent. Yuuri trailed his fingers very lightly over the straining bulge in Viktor’s pants, enjoying the way his eyes rolled back and fluttered. “ _Twenty,_ ” he finished in Russian, adding softly, “I guess you kneel right here in that case.”

There was no graceful way for Viktor to come to his knees with his hands tied together in front of him, and so he lowered himself, one knee at a time, with his forearms held awkwardly against his chest. The position left his face at arm’s length from Yuuri. Right then, Yuuri wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke Viktor’s face, to draw him into a kiss, but kissing him would break what he had negotiated with each of them before this began, even if it wouldn’t entirely ruin the moment.

He reached out and ran a hand lightly along Viktor’s cheek, tracing down to his chest, savoring the sweet fire in his eyes as they remained fixed on his face. 

“Too fucking close for something this disgusting,” Yuuri said and shoved Viktor gently back before Yuri grabbed his attention with a lube-slicked finger pressed against his entrance. His hand gripped Viktor’s shirt and his eyes widened, still fixed on Viktor’s as Yuri’s finger pushed into him and his mouth fell open.

“Are you watching?” Yuuri breathed, still holding Viktor by the shirt front as Yuri worked one finger in and out of him, still occasionally bathing the skin nearby with flicks of his tongue. “Can you see how good he makes me feel?”  
He watched Viktor nod silently, his lip quirked up on one side into a smile that seemed far more genuine than the situation merited. 

“I’m ready for another, Yura,” Yuuri sighed, still watching Viktor’s face. His next breath heavy with a moan as two fingers twisted into him, crooking gently. Yuri giggled again as Yuuri arched against the bed, dragging Viktor almost off balance. Yuuri caught himself before he apologized, but finally let go of Viktor’s shirt.

“Fuck, Yuri, it’s too good. I don’t even know I’m going to last long enough to take your dick,” Yuuri said as he tried to pull his characters together again. The look on Viktor’s face almost seemed like it was continuing the conversation that had brought them into this room together, answering questions left open without needing to speak a word.

Yuri’s ass was still hovering over Yuuri’s chest, though he’d given up working on it before he’d sent Viktor to find the lube. Part of Yuuri was glad Yuri couldn’t see Viktor’s face for right now. Another part of him wished Yuri could see what he saw in it. But that required more than just a different angle in the body.

“You’re too fucking hungry for it, _golubyets_ ,” Yuri giggled as Yuuri asked him for a third finger so quickly after the second. He bit down hard on his lip as he tried to hold himself back from the edge as Yuri worked a third finger into him.

“If I’m hungry for it, it’s because I know how good it’s going to feel with you inside me. You fill me so perfectly I can almost forget about this limp fucking garden snake over here,” Yuuri said, his voice airy and tight as he focused his energy on relaxing enough to control the tight pull in his balls, the squeeze of his asshole around Yuri’s fingers.

“I’m ready now, Yuri,” Yuuri begged, “Please.”

“Yeah,” came Yuri’s breathy response as he withdrew his hand and crawled off of Yuuri, turning to face him and wiping his lube-covered hand against the bedspread as he knelt between Yuuri’s thighs. “You good where you are or do you want to reposition at all or...?”

“You’re so good to me,” Yuuri said, reaching out to run his fingers lightly along the underside of Yuri’s cock. “I really don’t care, just so long as I can watch your beautiful face when you come inside me.”

Yuri tried to say something, but it was swallowed in the groan he let out as Yuuri’s fingers teased the length of him. His eyes slid shut and he took a few deep breaths before patting around for the lube where he had left it. 

“Let me,” Yuuri said, taking the bottle and squeezing a generous dollop into his hand. He rubbed his hands together to warm the lube, then wrapped one hand around Yuri’s cock, giving a few solid pumps to coat it. The other he wiped down Viktor’s face several times, leaving wet streaks across it that caught the light in oddly interesting ways. “You like this. You like being used like an old tissue, don’t you? A place to clean my hands of this extra lube so he can fuck me?”

Yuri positioned himself between Yuri’s thighs, lifting one leg onto each shoulder. He lined himself up with Yuuri’s entrance, pressing his tip gently against him. Yuuri’s eyes were pulled from Viktor’s face to Yuri’s, where he felt himself held firmly by Yuri’s blue-green gaze as he leaned forward and began to press into him slowly. All three of them gasped as the tip pushed fully past the tight ring.

“You want me to wait here, _golubyets_ , or are you ready for me to move?” Yuri whispered, brushing back Yuuri’s hair from his face softly as he hovered above him. 

“Now,” Yuuri demanded, his fingers drifting to Yuri’s sides around his own legs, trying to get enough purchase on his skin to pull him deeper inside. Yuri pushed forward, straining to kiss Yuuri through his legs, pressing Yuuri’s hips into a deep stretch so his knees were almost touching his own ears.

Yuuri’s breathing grew ragged and uneven again as Yuri set a quick pace to the smooth push of his hips against Yuuri’s ass, curved up into the air with the ways his legs were threaded over Yuri’s shoulders.

“Yushka,” Yuuri gasped. He tried to pull together another barbed scrap to throw to Viktor, but found himself at a loss to come up with anything but half comprehensible curse words in three languages.

Yuuri pressed two fingers to Viktor’s face, sliding across the lube-slicked stripes of it until they found his lips. Viktor sucked the fingers in eagerly, swirling his tongue around them as he worked them in and out of his mouth as best he could. 

With his fingers in Viktor’s mouth and Yuri’s weight pushing into him, stretching him, filling him, it didn’t take long for the tension to build to an unsustainable crest, his own control over the twitches and vocalisations of his body spread impossibly thin. Through the haze of it all, he was dimly aware of Viktor’s mouth falling open around his fingers, of the quicksand shiver under Yuri’s skin before Yuuri’s own orgasm undulated through his body. 

As Yuuri’s eyes came back into focus, he could feel both sets of eyes on him. His legs were stretched out along the bed, Yuri nestled along one side of him. Viktor still knelt by the side of the bed, slouched forward a little more where he had sat up straight before. The viscous stripes of his own semen across his skin were starting to cool. He patted around on the bed, looking for something to use wipe it up. For all the planning that had gone into this, apparently none of them had thought to put a towel or tissues by the bed.

“Vitya, are you all set? Did you finish with us just then?” Yuuri asked, head flopping to the side away towards Viktor. Viktor shrugged with a soft smile and a twitch of his eyebrows. “Can you go get something to help clean up with, please? I’m not sure my legs work right now.” 

Viktor held up his arms, still laced together with the purple tie.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that anymore,” Yuuri said pulling the end of the slipknot that had held it and unwinding the silk fabric, “I wasn’t kidding when I said you could wiggle out of it, but here, let me get it for you.”

“And you don’t need to mime at me anymore with your eyebrows,” Yuuri giggled as Viktor stretched and made some kind of elaborately strange face as he stood up. “It’s fine if you talk now.”

Viktor sat down on the bed with a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and wiped the cooling come from Yuuri’s chest, from his abs, from where it had pooled in his navel.

“You’re so sweet to me,” Yuuri said, this time reaching up to trace the line of Viktor’s jaw affectionately. As soothing as it was with his Yuri curled along one side of him, he wanted to hold his Viktor right now, too. Yuri would never have agreed to that before - the clearly defined line between his relationship with Yuuri and Viktor’s had always been essential to him. An hour ago, Yuuri wouldn't have bothered to ask. But Yuuri had watched his careful distance soften even in the time they’d been in this hotel room. To hold them both at the same time seemed such a small thing to ask, but in some ways it crossed more boundaries than everything else that had just transpired. 

“Yura, _mame-chan_ ,” Yuuri said turning his head back towards Yuri, “Would it be okay with you if Viktor lay down on the bed here, too, just to snuggle a little?”

“Yeah, sure” Yuri mumbled, tired but unconcerned, against the nape of his neck. “I guess that’d be okay. Just so long as long as baldy leaves his clothes on.”


End file.
